


ain't got no tears left to cry

by stevebuckiest



Series: be gay, do crime [3]
Category: Knives Out (2019), We Have Always Lived in the Castle (2019)
Genre: Choking, Crying, Dacryphilia, Dirty Talk, Kink Exploration, Light Sadism, M/M, bottom ransom drysdale, sadist Charles Blackwood, that should have been a tag already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:33:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevebuckiest/pseuds/stevebuckiest
Summary: "I bet Charles was fascinated the first time he made Ransom cry and saw his tears cling to those obscene eyelashes."
Relationships: Charles Blackwood/Ransom Drysdale
Series: be gay, do crime [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809196
Comments: 7
Kudos: 91





	ain't got no tears left to cry

**Author's Note:**

> turns out charles is a sadist...are we surprised?

The first time Charles makes Ransom cry, he starts thinking there might be something wrong with him.

The situation that leads to it is nothing particularly out of the ordinary- they’ve been messing around a few months now, so having Ransom pinned under him in the king-sized bed of his obscenely large room is a position Charles has grown used to. He’s grown used to a lot of things about Ransom- they’ve known each other since they were kids, and even if the sound of him moaning for Charles to fuck him harder is a little newer than the sound of him bitching is, Charles doesn’t mind hearing either. Not if putting up with the latter means he gets to keep sticking his dick in the younger man.

If he’s honest- he wasn’t even sure if Ransom _could_ cry before this. Ransom isn’t exactly the touchy-feely type, and Charles has seen him get all different kinds of fired up before, but crying was never a byproduct of any of it. Getting red in the face? Absolutely. But getting even the _slightest_ bit watery eyed? Charles has never seen that happen, and he’s seen Ransom get upset a _lot_.

So, needless to say, when Ransom starts practically sobbing underneath him, Charles is more than a little bit surprised.

At first, he isn’t sure what’s going on- all he had done was gone down the route of their usual filth, leaned down and whispered “ _Yeah, you like that, you little slut?”_ after a particularly hard thrust and squeeze to Ransom’s throat. For a moment he’s afraid he’s done something wrong, crossed a line or accidentally hurt his lover by getting caught up in the moment. Listen, Charles might be pissed at Ransom about ninety percent of the time he’s with him, but he doesn’t want to _hurt_ the guy.

Or at least…he doesn’t think so.

There’s a second where he freezes and the only sound in the room besides his own labored breathing is Ransom’s wet gasp as he lets out another whimper and tries to bring down his hands to wipe away the tears that have started spilling down his face and soaking into his hairline from where he’s lying flat on his back. He’s clearly embarrassed, face flushed red from more than just exertion. The problem is, Charles has got both of his wrists pinned above his head, so all the movement does is draw more attention to the fact that Ransom is crying and Charles is no longer fucking him because of it.

He’s staring, he knows. Staring down at the man beneath him who’s got tears running down his face for a reason Charles hasn’t quite figured out yet. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach as he looks down at him, teary eyed and whimpering, hole clenching down tight over Charles dick still buried in him.

Ransom avoids eye contact with him for a moment, but eventually his temper and defensiveness get the better of him and he’s glaring up at Charles, eyes gone extra blue from the tears in a way Charles has never seen before.

He thinks they’re beautiful. That’s kind of the problem.

“What?” Ransom snaps. “Get on with it.” His voice is demanding, every bit the brat he normally is, but his cheeks burns redder when Charles just keeps on staring at him. “ _What_?” he repeats defensively.

Charles doesn’t have an answer for him. He doesn’t know _what’s_ wrong with him right now, but he can’t stop staring at Ransom’s tears for the life of him, and that’s saying a lot considering how hard his dick still is in Ransom’s ass.

He thinks his dick is probably still hard _because_ of the tears, and that’s the _what_ that he’s a little bit afraid of. His- whatever they are- is laying beneath him, had started fucking crying while they were having sex, but Charles…likes it.

_Oh, god_ , he realizes. He likes it.

Once the realization fully hits, he can’t stop thinking about it. Can’t stop noticing how the tears are clinging to Ransom’s obscenely long eyelashes, is fucking _fascinated_ by the sight. They’re beautiful, and if he were a sappier man he might compare them to something ridiculous like crystals, or dewdrops on the grass. His dick twitches in Ransom’s ass and Ransom moans, another tear slipping out of his still watering eyes and sliding down his face, trailing down his jawline and neck until it pools at the crook of Charles’ fingers and thumb where his hand is wrapped around Ransom’s throat.

Charles’ absentmindedly flexes his hand, tear soaking into his palm, and Ransom whimpers at the motion. His eyes leak yet another tear, and Charles looks down trying to tear himself away from the sight of it only to realize that Ransom’s dick is weeping just as much between them. He squeezes his hand again, moves his hips a tiny amount just to see what happens, and glances back up just in time to see Ransom’s eyes fall shut to try and keep the tears back. It’s to no avail, and Charles comes to a second realization.

Ransom likes it too. He likes it so much that he’s crying from it, broken down enough from Charles’ cock and his words to get emotional in a way Charles has never seen him get with anyone else. It makes a rush of power and possessiveness go to Charles head so strong that he’s practically dizzy with it, and it’s with those feelings in mind that he clenches his hand tight and rolls his hips forward again, slow and dirty.

“You just look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, voice almost reverent.

Ransom moans now that Charles is moving again, hips wriggling impatiently, trying to goad Charles into going faster. “Like what?” he grits out.

Charles leans down and licks at the teardrop making its way down Ransom’s flushed cheek, gaining more confidence with every whimper and tear he pulls from him. “Crying for my cock,” he whispers. “It’s gorgeous, H.”

“Shut _up_ , Charles. Not- crying,” Ransom groans, back arching when Charles starts moving faster, gaining towards the pace he was at before.

Charles laughs and licks up another tear before moving down to kiss him, tongue slipping in his mouth so that Ransom can taste the salt of it too. “Then what’s that? All that salt finally leak out of your skin from your attitude?” he taunts.

Ransom growls and tries to jerk his wrists out of Charles’ grip, failing when Charles nails his prostate in the middle of his effort and makes him go limp. “Fuck you, Blackwood,” he mutters, but there’s less heat to it than before as he loses himself to the steady thrusts of Charles’ cock against his sweet spot, whimpering every time he brushes against it.

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart,” Charles chuckles lowly, leaning in close to his ear. “I love it,” he whispers, quiet and hushed like it’s a secret. And really, maybe it is. Knowledge just between the two of them that Charles fucks Ransom to the point of tears and they both _like_ it.

Ransom evidently likes it so much that he goes fuck- dumb with it, not even bothering to retort, just moaning and moving his hips up to pull Charles’ cock in him deeper. Charles grins at the motion and the fresh round of tears it draws, deciding that he’s finally had enough with the teasing.

“God, you need it bad,” he breathes out, removing his hand from Ransom’s throat in favor of wrapping it around his leaking cock instead. “Need it so bad you’re crying for it, greedy little slut.” He leans down and kisses him open mouthed and filthy as he starts stroking his cock and pumping his hips forward faster.

Ransom still doesn’t respond, just moans into the kiss and tilts his hips up so that the angle has Charles nailing his prostate with every thrust. He cries out at a particularly hard movement, another sob breaking free.

“Fuck,” Charles groans. “That’s right, baby. Cry for me, lemme know how much you need it,” he orders, and Ransom squeezes his eyes shut, face red, but obeys. Charles is almost positive he does it because he can’t help it rather than any real desire to submit, but he’s letting out devastated cries the next moment either way, and the sounds hit Charles so hard that he feels himself getting ready to come.

He quickens his thrusts, hips snapping forward at a brutal pace while his hand works Ransom over at the same speed. Ransom lets out a wet gasp when Charles thumbs at the head of him at the same time his grinds his cock slow and dirty into his prostate, and the sound of him hiccupping out a wrecked sob is the only warning Charles has before he’s spilling all over their stomachs.

His eyes are glassy and bluer than Charles has ever seen them, tears clinging to his darkened eyelashes, cheeks stained red like someone has slapped him.

And, _oh_ , isn’t that a thought.

The image of Charles landing a blow against Ransom’s pretty face sends him over the edge, coming into him with a groan as he pictures the mark it would leave and the tears it would draw. “ _Fuck_.”

Ransom lets out sensitive whines now that he’s come, cock soft against his stomach while Charles’ rides out his own orgasm, overstimulated tears pooling in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just lets his breath hitch and noises break free until Charles’ finally stills his hips and drops his head forward onto Ransom’s shoulder with a groan.

They’re both silent and still for a few minutes. Charles takes the opportunity to mull over what just happened and how much he liked it, but he’s pulled from his reverie at the sound of Ransom sniffling underneath him. He raises his head to look at him and is greeted with a sight that makes his breath catch.

The younger man isn’t crying anymore, just laying back pliant on the pillow with his eyes closed. There’s dried tear tracks on his face now, skin under his eyes swollen from crying. Maybe it shouldn’t be so enthralling to him, but Charles thinks he looks beautiful. Who would have thought Ransom Drysdale would be a pretty crier?

He looks so pretty that Charles can’t help but lean forward and kiss him, Ransom practically mewling when his sensitive cock brushes against Charles’ stomach. He’s sweet into the kiss, but once Charles’ pulls back, he’s scowling and gone right back to being a brat. “You gonna get off me now, Blackwood?” he huffs, voice scratchy from all the crying.

Charles raises an eyebrow but pulls out and rolls off him nonetheless, settling down on the bed next to him and pulling him over for a begrudging cuddle. Ransom groans but lets himself sink into it nonetheless, bringing up a discreet hand to swipe at his eyes.

“So,” Charles finally says. “That was…good.”

Ransom huffs loudly and buries his head into Charles’ neck, breath hot against his skin when he speaks. “You bring this up outside the bedroom and I’ll end you,” he threatens.

Charles snorts and gives his hair a tug just to hear him groan at the sting. “Yeah, yeah,” he says. “No promises. You need a Kleenex?” he teases, laughing loudly when Ransom growls and bites at his neck.

“Fuck _off_ , Charles.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments are my fuel.


End file.
